


Lost Our Way

by alchemicink



Series: Mercenaries AU [1]
Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, M/M, Mercenaries, Mercenaries AU, Yakuza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:19:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4630182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alchemicink/pseuds/alchemicink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been almost two whole months since the yakuza had taken Yuto and every lead had been a disappointment. But this one would be different, Yamada told himself. This time he would finally find his missing ex-partner and ex-boyfriend. Maybe then he could escape the guilt. Or at least cope with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Our Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dusk037](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dusk037/gifts).



> Recipient-san, I hope you enjoy this fic! I tried to make it as angsty as possible. I ended up using your "relationship quietly falling apart" prompt that went along with Tokio Hotel's [Invaded](https://youtu.be/OncE9SVp_uw), and I made them mercenaries since I couldn't write your excellent Sensations prompt. Mercenaries are close enough to assassins, right? 
> 
> On a side note, all the places mentioned by name here are real places in Japan. (Yes, even Boogie Buns is a real place) I'm sorry I probably didn't do the descriptions justice. 
> 
> Special thanks to L for beta-reading. She saved it from being a complete mess. Also, thanks to C for helping me remember details of all the places and enduring my ridiculous questions. And thanks to S for all the sprinting. I wouldn't have finished without it!

It was supposed to be a simple job, Yamada reminded himself as he ducked lower behind the bar to evade the bullets whizzing past overhead. Fragments of broken glass shattered on the floor around him like glittery snowflakes in a sea of wasted alcohol. The job was only supposed to last a few minutes. Get in, get the info, get out. Simple.

Yamada looked to his right to where Yuto had taken cover way down at the other end of the bar. He was slightly distracted watching Yuto’s hands fly fast as he constructed a makeshift bomb. Molotov cocktails were one of his specialties. Yuto didn’t look back at him, so Yamada dodged another shattered bottle of whiskey and prepared to make his own move. He grabbed a few of his thin needles and hurled them fast as lightning at his enemy before ducking back down to avoid the gunfire. He waited for the agonizing cry of pain that meant the needle had hit its mark. Hikaru would have lectured him for using this short-range method of attack as a long-range one, but his Glock was out of ammo and he was out of options.

It had probably only been about fifteen minutes since he and Yuto walked into the dimly-lit, smoke-filled bar, a regular yakuza hangout. After what had happened between the two of them, he hadn’t expected to work together with Yuto anymore. But this job was supposed to be quick and he needed someone to provide cover. Everyone else was busy with their own work, so Yuto had been his only option. Things had felt very tense and awkward as they walked in together, but they remained professionals. They were well-trained mercenaries after all. All Yamada had to do was plant evidence on the main yakuza boss and take the important papers the guy carried around with him. Something as petty as hurt feelings shouldn’t have gotten in the way of their work, but it had.

In hindsight, they shouldn’t have been so careless to think that they didn’t need to plan the job out. He had just assumed that this would go the way their jobs usually went. But Yamada knew the old saying about people who assumed things, and he certainly felt like an ass, even as their lives were in danger. They should have discussed the game plan ahead of time. Then they would have known how to smoothly play off the problems that popped up. They would have known how to avoid blowing their cover. And they wouldn’t have had to jump behind the bar in order to dodge the bullets aimed straight for their hearts. 

Yamada winced as he heard the sound of another one of Yuto’s makeshift bombs going off, the concussive blast rattling his eardrums. He glanced back at Yuto and was startled to see his glare directed towards him, his dark eyes glowering with anger. 

There were both out of ammo now.

Yamada reached for the biggest shard of glass he could find. He regretted that he’d neglected to tuck his knife away in his pocket before he left the cabin earlier. That, too, had been a petty, bad decision. As soon as his fingers curled around a jagged piece by his foot, Yuto’s startled shout redirected his attention.

Panic coursed through his veins as he saw one of the enemy reach over the bar and pull Yuto up by his hair. 

“Shit.”

The word slipped from his lips automatically as he watched Yuto struggle to fight back, his long limbs flailing through the air as they dragged him towards the back exit. Yamada stood up and took aim, throwing his makeshift glass knife at the closest guy. It sank deeply into his arm and he loosened his grip on Yuto temporarily. But just as quickly, another guy was there to take his place.

And then Yamada heard a loud crack. It took him a moment to realize the sound had come from the man standing above him, leaning over the bar. He’d whacked Yamada hard with the butt of his handgun. Yamada staggered back down to the floor against his will as the pain spread across his head and his vision blurred. He tried to get back up but only managed to cut his arm on the glass covering the floor. He ended up lying on his side, face pressed into a sticky pool of whiskey. Something that looked vaguely like a business card fluttered in his line of sight but he focused only on Yuto as he slipped further and further away, out of his reach. Everything blurred around the edges until it all finally faded to black…

***

“The next stop is Fukuyama. The next stop is Fukuyama.”

The emotionless female voice of the PA announcement woke Yamada out of his restless nap. He immediately reached inside his leather jacket to grasp the cool metal of his 9mm Glock as he shook off the memories that had plagued his sleep. The shinkansen began to slow as it reached its destination. Yamada blinked a few times to shake off the grogginess. He didn’t often let his guard down enough to sleep on the train, but this bullet train was crowded, reducing the risk of any unsavory characters causing a scene. And it didn’t help that Yamada had been awake for the past 26 hours, chasing a dead end in Sapporo and then another one in Nagoya. All a waste of time.

He’d never been to Fukuyama before. But then again, he never had much time to travel and sightsee either. He had visited lot of places in Japan for the first time since he had begun his search. As the shinkansen slowed to a stop, Yamada shuffled through the crowd of people to reach the exit. He breathed the air in deeply as he stepped onto the platform. Trains always felt like a metallic coffin, too enclosed for him to be comfortable.

Before he continued, he scanned the platform for potential threats. But the people passing by were just normal, ordinary citizens. Just families, schoolchildren, and businessmen going about their daily lives. Sometimes Yamada wished he hadn’t gone into this line of work. _Mercenary_ sounds like a cool job at first until you realize it consists of constantly putting your life in danger, working on very little sleep, moving from safe house to safe house, and having a social life made up of only your coworkers. 

His phone vibrated, drawing his attention away from his recon. Speaking of coworkers, Chinen Yuri’s name flashed across the screen. He checked the message but it was just a reminder that Chinen was already waiting for him at the restaurant. Yamada didn’t respond since he knew he was only about a five minute walk away from the meeting place, according to his GPS. 

Yamada considered that he probably never would have ever stopped in this small city near Hiroshima if not for his search. It seemed like a nice place, he noted as he swept past the rose bushes planted outside the train station, but he literally had no time to stop and smell them when Chinen was waiting. Once Yamada reached the tiny restaurant/bar, he cringed at the tackiness of the decoration outside of the entrance. _Boogie Buns_ did seem like a place Chinen would think was funny. The display by the door was styled like something from old American westerns, with aged wooden planks advertizing food options and complete with two rusty horseshoes hanging at the top. The inside was equally as tacky, but was so dimly lit that he could ignore it. Especially the cattle skull hanging on the wall that he sincerely hoped was fake. Chinen waved to him from where he was lounging over at the table in the corner.

“Ryosuke, you didn’t get lost this time!” He pushed a menu to Yamada’s side of the table before taking a sip of his drink. 

Yamada frowned. “I got lost in Yokohama _once_. Are you ever gonna let that go?” He flipped the menu open and squinted to read in the poor light. It looked like the only options were burgers and beer. He supposed that explained the _Buns_ part of the restaurant name.

Chinen smirked but didn’t reply, choosing to order his meal instead. 

Yamada waited impatiently for their food. He kept tapping his fingers on the table until Chinen finally smacked his hand and told him to stop. But Yamada couldn’t help it. Each second that ticked by felt like another one wasted. It had been almost two whole months since the yakuza had taken Yuto and every lead had been a disappointment. But this one would be different, Yamada told himself. This time he would finally find his missing ex-partner and ex-boyfriend. Maybe then he could escape the guilt. Or at least cope with it. 

The burgers they ordered were delicious but Yamada only nibbled at his. It was messy with ketchup and mustard dripping down the sides, making his fingers sticky and the bun soggy. He watched as Chinen chose to cut his up neatly with a knife and fork, looking like he was eating a gourmet dinner of the highest quality instead of just some hamburger in a tacky bar. 

“Why are we here?” Yamada asked, breaking the silence as he wiped ketchup stains from between his fingers. It almost reminded him of blood except that the consistency was too thick. 

Chinen paused with a bite of hamburger halfway to his mouth. “…because I’ve been craving an American style burger since I got back from the States and this is the closest to authentic I could find.” 

“No, I mean, why are we _here_ instead of tracking down our new lead?” 

Chinen sighed and set his fork back down, food uneaten. “I checked into it before you got here. It’s another false lead. They’re just playing you for a fool.” 

Yamada felt a surge of anger course through him and he crumpled up his napkin into a tiny ball. “How do I know that for sure? Maybe you missed something.” 

“Ryosuke, stop,” Chinen commanded. Yamada didn’t like that Chinen was giving him that worried look he’d been seeing all too frequently since the younger had returned to Japan a month ago. “Listen, I checked it out and there’s no mistake. They’re giving you false leads because they’re toying with you. This is revenge.” 

Yamada knew Chinen was right. In their line of work, there was always someone out for revenge, for payback. And Yamada and Yuto had done a lot in the past to piss off this particular yakuza family. 

He frowned and pulled out the business card he’d been carrying with him ever since the incident almost two months ago. It was the card the enemy had thrown at him as they dragged Yuto away. The stench of the whiskey it had soaked in still clung to the cardstock paper. Some of the design at the bottom had blurred from the liquid stain, but Yamada knew what it was. There had been an identical card waiting for him at each dead-end lead he’d checked out. All of them were resting together in his pocket.

“I’m sorry,” Chinen began. “I’m sorry that I was away working in America. I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you when you needed it. And I’m sorry about what happened with Yuto.” 

“You couldn’t have known what would happen,” Yamada said, shaking his head. _And you wouldn’t have been able to fix it either._

Silence descended over the two of them and Chinen went back to cutting up his dinner, while Yamada returned the card to his pocket for safekeeping. Without warning Chinen scooped up a portion of his fries and then dumped them onto Yamada’s plate. 

“Eat,” he demanded. “I know you haven’t had anything all day.” 

Chinen knew him too well sometimes, a testament to their lifelong friendship. So Yamada did as he was told and ate his fries at least before they became too cold and soggy. He didn’t add any ketchup. 

“For what it’s worth,” Chinen continued. “Takaki found us a better, more promising lead.” 

“Hm” was about all Yamada could say in response while his mouth was full of potato. He chewed quickly and then swallowed. “What makes you think his lead is any better than mine?”

“Because this lead came from Yabu,” Chinen answered, smirking like he’d just laid down a royal flush in a poker game. 

“Hm,” Yamada repeated, suddenly intrigued. He might just let himself feel a sliver of hope again. 

***

“Yuto, were you trying to set the kitchen on fire again?” Yamada asked as he stepped into the tiny kitchen of their cabin filled with a smoky haze. 

Yuto dropped whatever he was scraping out of a pan into the trashcan and then spun around with an innocent grin on his face. “Me? Set the kitchen on fire? When have I ever done that?” 

Yamada snorted and then opened the window to air the room out. “Um, just last week? And there was that time of my birthday. And also the Valentine’s Day incident. And then…”

“Alright, alright,” Yuto said, waving his arms. “Okay. Explosions are my specialty after all!” 

“Not in the kitchen though, okay?” Yamada said and leaned over the trashcan to see what failed experiment had taken place. 

“It was supposed to be cake,” Yuto explained as he wrapped his arms around Yamada and pulled him close. Yamada closed his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of those well-defined arm muscles around the sides of his stomach. Yuto’s mouth found the back of his neck and pressed light kisses against his skin. 

“Cake? What’s the special occasion?” 

Yuto gasped and pulled away. “You forgot?!” 

Yamada sighed, already missing Yuto’s touch. “I know it’s not your birthday.”

With a pout, Yuto turned back to scraping the burnt cake bits attached to the pan. The black crumbs scattered into the white trash bag and bounced off the edge of the container to scatter on the floor. “It’s our anniversary,” Yuto answered, still sounding pouty, but Yamada was sure half of that was an act to garner sympathy.

“Which one?” Yamada asked. He took the pan from Yuto’s hand and set it into the sink. He filled it with water to soak for a while instead. “You have so many anniversaries. Is this the day we met? The day we began dating? The day we completed our first job together? Or the day I saved you from accidentally falling down that well?”

“I wasn’t going to fall down that well,” Yuto said, pointing at Yamada with the spatula. “You panicked.” 

“Excuse me for being concerned about your wellbeing,” Yamada teased. He grabbed the spatula and put it in the sink too. Once the mess was taken care of for the moment, he turned his attention back to Yuto. It was surprisingly easy to pin him against the kitchen counter and pull him close for a kiss. There was the barest hint of cake batter taste on Yuto’s lips and Yamada couldn’t help but smile. 

“So what anniversary is it?” he asked once again as he broke the kiss. He’d had a long day of reconnaissance for their next job so he’d been looking forward to seeing Yuto all day. 

“The anniversary of us saying I love you,” Yuto answered. He smiled so brightly, it was hard to imagine someone with such a pure smile like that did such dirty work for a living. 

Yamada immediately narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Wasn’t that…” Brow furrowed in concentration, he tried to remember the exact date of the occasion when they both finally confessed that the feelings between them had become love. “Wasn’t that just last month?” 

Yuto nodded and looked like he was trying to hold back his laughter at Yamada’s unimpressed reaction. 

“We can’t just celebrate everything in one month increments. That’s just ridiculous. It would be like a party every day and I’ll get fat if I eat that much cake.” 

“Silly, Yama-chan,” Yuto said fondly, using his favorite nickname. “Every day we continue to live should be a celebration.” He brushed a bit of hair out of Yamada’s eyes. “And I’ll still love you even if you eat too much cake.” 

“Don’t ruin the moment,” Yamada said with a laugh he tried to cover with an annoyed look, but Yuto wasn’t fooled. 

“Okay,” Yuto said, breaking away from Yamada and crossing over to the other side of the room and opening a cabinet. “The real reason I wanted to celebrate an anniversary is because I wanted an excuse to give you this present.” He stretched up on his tiptoes to reach something on the top of the highest shelf. Yamada thought he looked a bit like a giraffe all stretched out like that. Finally, after much struggling, his fingers managed to grasp onto the item and he pulled it down. It was just a simple small rectangular box maybe about the length of his hand, complete with a lopsided bow on top. 

“For you,” Yuto said almost shyly like a child. 

Yamada sat down at their kitchen table and opened it up, careful to keep even the bow intact. He gasped at what was inside while Yuto took a seat beside him. It was a knife, blade gleaming in the fluorescent light coming from overhead. The hilt was a smooth polished wood, highlighting the grain of the material. 

“Turn it over.” 

“Did you do this?” Yamada asked. His fingers traced over the kanji for his last name etched into the wood. One simple character for mountain followed by one simple character for field. 

“I was going to do _Ryosuke_ too,” Yuto admitted, looking shy again but also a bit proud of his work. “But, well, I didn’t realize that etching was so difficult.” 

Yamada picked it up and held it in his hand. It felt like it just belonged there naturally already. “It’s perfect,” he said. “Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t get you a present in return.” 

Yuto grinned and propped his hands up under his chin, letting his elbows rest on the table. “I’ll settle for a kiss,” he said and puckered up his lips. 

“You can have more than a kiss if you stop making that ridiculous face,” Yamada laughed. 

Instantly, Yuto’s face turned into a smirk instead. “Well then.” 

Yamada stood up, ready to drag Yuto out of the kitchen, but then paused as a thought occurred to him. “Yuto, you don’t have any other dangerous weapons hidden in the kitchen, do you?” He had no idea there had been a fancy knife stashed away in one of the cabinets, after all. 

Yuto paused to think about the question. “Hm…” he said, scanning the room slowly. “I’m sure everything in this room could be used as a weapon, don’t you think?” 

“Fair enough,” Yamada agreed, and made a mental note to remember that just in case there was ever a need to defend himself in his own kitchen. “Now let’s go.”

And they disappeared together to another part of their little cabin…

***

Yamada woke up to Chinen hitting him the face with a pillow, the memory of a happier time with Yuto quickly fading away as the present moment came rushing back in. 

“Wakey wakey, Sleepyhead. Time to go,” Chinen said, pulling back the covers of the hotel bed and stealing away all of the nice warmth that went with them. “We’ve got to catch a bus to Takaki’s place.” 

It had been a while since Yamada had seen Takaki in person. As their information gatherer, most of their interactions took place on the phone. He was often out of the country, travelling to talk with informants, but when he was back in Japan, he stayed in his collection of little houses and apartments scattered up and down the coast. The tiny house in the small town of Tomonoura was a new one, Yamada thought. Or at least, he’d never heard Takaki mention this one before. 

Yamada focused on looking out of the window as he and Chinen took the bus to their destination. They left the crowded parts of the city behind for the dirty glamour of rice fields and a narrow road to the coast. Chinen occupied himself during the ride by making silly faces at the baby seated across the aisle with its young mother. But Yamada wasn’t in the mood for his cute antics, so he just kept watching for a glimpse of the sea and tried to avoid bumping his head against the window whenever the bus came to a rough stop. 

He thought briefly about the time he and Yuto had discussed taking a vacation together to the beach. They would have gone early in the morning when the tide was low enough to search for oysters and clams in the mud. Once they found enough for a good meal, they’d find a good dry spot for a fire and roast their haul right there on the beach. In the afternoon, they’d go swimming, and once they were tired of that, they’d just sit together and enjoy the view until the sun set and there was no more light to see by. 

Yamada felt a pang of nostalgia as he thought about this, since they never did get the chance to do it. They’d talked about that idea in the early days of their relationship, before things had gotten bad between them. Before the stress of their job had weighed down on them and they closed themselves off from one another, setting themselves adrift alone in a sea of pain.

“This is our stop,” Chinen said, interrupting his thoughts. 

They stepped off the bus at the seaside town’s little visitor center for tourists. Across the road, Yamada could see the ocean, restless and choppy from the strong wind that was blowing through at the moment. The water was a dull shade of gray from reflecting the clouds overhead. 

They skipped the visitor center as Chinen seemed to know where to go. He led Yamada past a few temples and touristy spots—the brown stone lighthouse was particularly nice-looking and apparently one of the most famous parts of the town—before they followed the road up the side of the mountain. The road got narrower and curved sharply as it went higher, but the scenery they passed by was picturesque. This place reminded him a little of his cabin in the woods even though that was in a more secluded place than this town.

“Here it is,” Chinen announced as he stopped in front of a little house overlooking both the sea and the town. But Yamada hardly had time to admire the view because the front door swung open and Takaki was suddenly standing there. 

“Come in, come in,” he said. He looked like a happy housewife ready to welcome them into his perfect home, instead of their transient intelligence gatherer. 

Takaki Yuya was just the same as Yamada remembered him—almost as tall as Yuto and had surfer hair to match his love of the beach. He was barefoot and clad only in swim trunks at the moment. 

“Long time no see,” Yamada said as he peeled his shoes off in the entranceway. 

“Sorry it’s not under better circumstances,” Takaki said.

The three of them sat down around Takaki’s small kitchen table. The house was mostly bare of belongings, but that was likely due to Takaki not spending much time there. Chinen fiddled a bit with the empty salt and pepper shakers as he made himself comfortable in his chair. 

“You said you talked to Yabu?” he prompted.

“Right,” Takaki nodded. “His contacts have managed to track the movements of that yakuza family. And there’s word that they’ve been moving a hostage around. That would be Yuto, of course.” 

“Any word on his condition?” Chinen asked. 

Takaki shook his head. “Only that he’s alive.” He paused a moment before continuing. “Yabu said his family has some deals going down right now with that family which prevents him from stepping in to intervene. He wanted to help rescue Yuto himself but he can’t jeopardize the business deals. But I’ve got all the information from him so you should be able to get there just fine.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and gave it to them. A sketchily drawn map showed them their destination. It looked like a warehouse.

“And you’re sure this information is accurate?” Yamada asked. His voice was probably a bit harsher than he intended, but he just couldn’t deal with another false lead again. He’d been playing this game for too long.

“It’s sure as hell better than whatever the hell you were doing in Sapporo with Hikaru,” Takaki said sharply. Yamada shouldn’t be surprised Takaki knew about that. Hikaru’s lead had been sketchy at best and it was only desperation that sent Yamada all the way to Hokkaido to check it out.

“Well Hikaru thought his lead was genuine too,” Yamada reached out and grabbed the salt and pepper shakers from Chinen’s hands and put them out of his grasp. The constant movement was grating on his nerves.

“How about we think positive and not argue, guys?” Chinen suggested, looking annoyed at his lost opportunity to occupy his hands. 

“Fine,” Yamada sighed.

“If you don’t believe me, you can talk to Yabu himself. He’s in Okayama right now, and that’s where you’ll be headed anyway.” Takaki pointed to the city name he’d scrawled on the paper and then stood up to put on a pot of tea. 

“Can I use your restroom?” Chinen asked suddenly. 

Takaki nodded and pointed him in the right direction, but Chinen already seemed to know where to go. Once he was gone, Takaki sighed as he looked through his different teas. He finally picked out a packet of green tea and dumped it into the boiling water. 

“Are you okay?” he asked Yamada quietly. “I’ve been away so long, I think I’ve missed a lot.” 

Yamada looked over at Takaki and realized that he had missed some things too. Now that he had time for a closer look, he could see a fresh scar running the length of Takaki’s left arm which accompanied a nasty bruise on his left shoulder blade. And the kitchen window that Takaki usually left open in any of his houses to let in the sunshine and the breeze was bolted shut, making the place feel more like a prison than a home. He wondered what had happened to Takaki to cause the change. He had always seemed so strong and untouchable, but he supposed that everyone eventually succumbed to the pressure of this line of work. Everyone eventually drowned in it.

“I’m fine,” Yamada lied. “Things between me and Yuto got… complicated. We eventually decided to take some time apart.” That was probably a nicer way of describing what had actually happened. “But then we decided to work that last job together and that’s when things all went to shit.” If Chinen hadn’t been out of the country working, and if Hikaru hadn’t been tied up with a job in Kyoto, Yamada never would have picked Yuto to go with him to that bar. And they wouldn’t be in this mess at all. Yamada possibly would have ended up dead without any backup but, at the moment, he felt like that was a better option. “Now I’ve got to fix my mistakes.” 

“You two were good together,” Takaki said thoughtfully. He absentmindedly stirred the tea, which Yamada assumed he probably wasn’t supposed to do, but then again, he didn’t actually know much about making tea himself. Yuto had always done that. The last time Takaki had seen both him and Yuto, they were still blissfully happy together. 

“Do you think I have a good chance of finding him this time?” Yamada changed the subject because he couldn’t bear to continue discussing his failed relationship any longer. 

Takaki leaned closer to his teapot to inspect the contents better. He grimaced at the tea and shook the pot a bit as if that would somehow help. “I think Yabu knows what he’s talking about. And for Yuto’s sake, I hope so. You know eventually they’ll get tired of messing with you, and then…” he trailed off. 

“Time is short. I know,” Yamada answered. His sharp tone echoed off the bare walls of the kitchen. 

Takaki poured a cup of tea for himself, Yamada, and Chinen who had just returned from the bathroom. Yamada took a polite sip of the tea but he still didn’t have any appetite. And he discovered that it was much too watery to actually drink. Takaki seemed to be used to making terrible tea and downed his whole cup in one go like a shot of alcohol. Chinen just pretended to not notice the tea at all. 

“Ready to go?” he asked, not even sitting back down at the table. 

“Thanks,” Yamada said. He accidentally bumped his knee on the table when he stood up and Chinen gave him that familiar worried look again. 

“When this is all over,” Takaki said, “come back and visit me, and I’ll show you around the town. Some of the most amazing views in Japan are right here.” 

“You’d have to open your kitchen window up first for us to see it,” Yamada said as he followed Chinen out the door.

***

Neither Yamada nor Yuto said anything as they stepped into their little cabin out in the mountains. The door shut with a quiet click. Yuto immediately peeled off his clothes stained with blood and gunpowder, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

Feeling sore all over and a bit shaken, Yamada trudged to the bathroom and turned the water on in the tub. He pulled out his bloody knife and his bloody needles and deposited them under the running water. He watched as the red liquid swirled together with the transparent one, creating a beautifully terrible work of art before it quickly disappeared down the drain. It reminded him of his own mortality. Not that he needed any more reminders of it, he thought as he tentatively touched the wound on the left side of his neck just under his ear, hastily wrapped with a makeshift bandage as they returned home. If the bullet had travelled just a bit more to the right, he would be lying on the dirty floor of that warehouse, bleeding out and watching his life flash before his eyes before it all faded away. 

He had been careless enough to let the bullet even get close enough to graze his neck. He had been acting as the lookout as Yuto removed the goods they were supposed to steal from that warehouse. Yuto had moved quickly, thrusting box after box into the back of the nondescript delivery van they’d borrowed for the job. But Yamada hadn’t been quick enough to divert the yakuza lackey’s attention when he strolled into sight. Yamada put a bullet in his kneecap but it hadn’t been fast enough to keep him from calling for his backup. Things got hectic after that with bullets flying in the air, and smoke from Yuto’s makeshift bombs filling up the warehouse. 

Yuto, still stripped down to only his underwear, stepped into the bathroom. Since the tub was currently occupied, he sat down on the floor beside Yamada. His fingers brushed against the bandage and Yamada shivered. 

“Does it hurt much?” he asked. “After we clean it, I’ll stitch it up for you.” 

“I don’t think it’s deep enough to need stitches.” At the moment, he didn’t want Yuto’s fingers to touch him at all. He felt dirty. 

Yuto didn’t say anything for a moment, but instead leaned to look into the tub filled with weapons. Yamada wondered what he thought about when he looked at it—did it remind him of dying too? But he didn’t ask, didn’t say anything. 

“I think they’re clean now.” Yuto said as he reached to cut the steady stream of water off. 

“I suppose.” 

When Yamada didn’t move to pick up any of his needles or knife, Yuto reached for them instead, carefully drying each one off with a towel. His instruments of pain and death were being handled as gently as a newborn baby. 

“Are you okay?” Yamada asked as he gathered his bundle up. There was a nasty burn to the inside of Yuto’s upper right arm when he’d gotten a little careless with his ammo. 

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Yuto said, but he winced when he thought Yamada wasn’t looking. There was a time in the past when Yuto would have complained profusely about his injury to try to get sympathy kisses of comfort from Yamada. But if Yuto didn’t want to talk about it, then he wasn’t going to pry. Maybe it was best just to leave him alone. 

“I was thinking of taking a nice long hot bath,” Yuto said as he reached for the faucet to turn the water back on. “Did you want to join?” 

Yamada closed his eyes for a moment and thought about the feeling of warm water swirling around him along with the warm feeling of Yuto’s arms wrapped around him. But he knew if he climbed in the tub with Yuto, his long fingers would be there, messing with his bandage, fussing over the wound. It would be easier if he could just be alone and tend to it himself.

“No thanks,” Yamada answered. “I’ll take one later.” 

“Are you angry with me?” While Yamada hadn’t been looking, Yuto had already stepped into the tub and sunk into the water up to his neck. “I know it’s my fault that I wasn’t quick enough to defend both of us, but you know I didn’t do it on purpose,” he blamed himself.

“I never said you did.” 

“You’ve just been really quiet and I didn’t know if I did anything wrong.” Yamada could see his own reflection in the water from where he was standing and the ripples distorted his face. 

It’s wasn’t anything Yuto did. It was just that Yamada didn’t have the words anymore. He felt like he was drowning and he had no air to speak, just choking on the pain filling up his soul. Yamada simply shook his head to answer Yuto’s question, and Yuto didn’t say anything else. Maybe he didn’t feel much like talking either.

Yamada slipped quietly out of the bathroom, and then walked to the bedroom. He pulled out their first aid kit and settled down in front of the mirror. He watched his reflection as he carefully peeled away the bandage around his neck. Most of the blood clinging to the cloth had already dried an ugly dark brown, but the fresh blood in the middle was still a dreadfully bright red. From his vantage point, it was difficult to completely examine the wound under his ear, but he could see just a tiny bit of blood continuing to ooze out. He let it soak into the collar of his shirt. By now, he was a pro at removing blood stains in the wash. 

Pain shot through his neck and down his chest and back as he poured disinfectant onto the open wound. He winced but just bit his lip until it passed. His fingers gently probed the jagged flesh, examining the parts he couldn’t see. The cut probably _did_ need stitches but Yamada was too proud to go back and ask for Yuto to stitch it up now. He would let it heal like this, let it become an ugly scar. It would be a reminder of his carelessness and his mortality.

He pulled out new bandages and wrapped it up nice and tight, adding a few layers so that the blood wouldn’t seep through. The only thing he allowed himself to focus on was the sound of his own breathing. He would try to forget about Yuto being in the next room over.

***

Yamada rubbed the rough scar on the side of his neck and tried to forget about the memory of the day he got it. Chinen was already a couple steps ahead of him on the sidewalk, so he took a few large strides to catch back up. Chinen led him through the streets of Okayama like he was a native of the city. Yamada had no clue what Chinen actually did when he wasn’t around, but he guessed he’d travelled here a few times before. This city was like any other: modern, big. When they turned the next corner, he could see Okayama Castle up ahead. Unlike most Japanese castles, this one had walls as black as night which seemed cast an ominous shadow as it loomed over the surrounding city. As with most castles, there was a small park area around it where people could gather. They passed by a few street musicians playing guitar for spare change. Yamada would have thrown a few coins in their bucket but he had none in his pocket and Chinen hadn’t slowed down one bit. For someone with such short legs, Yamada always had a hard time keeping up with his friend. 

“Hey!” Chinen called out and sent a friendly wave toward someone up ahead. Upon a closer look, he realized that it was the person they had come to see. Yabu Kota, clad in a crisp black suit, cheerfully waved back at them. 

“A takoyaki stand? Really? Can you be more of a cliché?” Yamada greeted, thinking about the yakuza he always saw in dramas and movies. The only thing Yabu was missing was a loud Hawaiian shirt. But Yamada guessed that Yabu wasn’t trying too hard to hide his mafia affiliations; his tattoos were peeking out from under the cuffs of his suit jacket sleeves and at the top of his nice white button-up shirt. 

“Have you come to try my famous takoyaki?” Yabu asked. He grinned like he didn’t have a care in the world, which probably wasn’t true but Yamada envied him for being able to hide it.

“I’m not really hungry.” Yamada generally didn’t eat takoyaki unless he was in Osaka, but Chinen eagerly accepted the food. 

“This one’s on the house,” Yabu insisted holding a container out for Yamada. His smile never faltered but there was a hint of a different tone in his voice.

Yamada looked down at the octopus-filled dumplings covered with sauce and saw something else there with a metallic glint. It was a tiny, normal-looking key. He grabbed some napkins to wipe it off and shoved it all in his pocket as subtly as possible. 

“So I’ve never been to Okayama before,” Yamada began. “Do you have a recommendation of somewhere scenic to check out? A nice building to eat our takoyaki in peace?” He gave Yabu a pointed look.

Chinen paused mid-chew until he realized Yamada was fishing for information about the key and the warehouse it supposedly went to. He too mirrored the look on Yamada’s face.

“If you follow the river that way,” he pointed downstream at the water flowing nearby, “about half a kilometer, you’ll see some old warehouses. Not used anymore but there are always some people around with interesting things. You might find something you want.” 

_So that was where Yuto was being held._ While Yabu continued to explain, Yamada couldn’t stop himself from making a sharp inhalation as it hit him. They were so close this time. He could feel it. His previous leads had been based on hearsay and rumor, but Yabu was closer to the enemy than they ever were. Yamada’s job of doing anyone’s dirty work if they could pay enough meant that he had met many different people from many different yakuza families, but Yabu Kota was always the best of them. He had never threatened Yamada or treated him badly, even though he was certainly capable of being as ruthless as the rest of them. But in another lifetime, Yamada figured Yabu would be more suited as some sort of performer, a singer or dancer perhaps. At least Hikaru had mentioned Yabu’s “lovely singing voice” many times before, and those two had known each other forever. 

“How crowded is that place?” Chinen asked, still casually munching on his food. “It’d be great if it was quiet.” 

What he meant was _how many people would they have to take out to get to Yuto?_ and _do I need the silencer for my gun?_

“I’ve never seen too many people around,” Yabu answered while scratching his chin in thought. He unknowingly smeared some batter on his face in the process, which would have been funny to Yamada if he hadn’t been so tense. “Maybe about six or seven at one time.” 

The two of them nodded and then shared a look. They had hoped for less resistance but Yamada had fought off more men at once when the situation required it. Plus they would have each other to rely on. Yamada had to think positively. Just a little bit longer and Yuto would be safe again. 

“Thanks for the suggestion, Yabu,” Chinen said. “We’ll go check it out.” 

“Keep in touch,” Yabu said and sent them a friendly wave as if they weren’t about to go charging into a den of angry mafia guys out for revenge. “Enjoy the takoyaki.”

“We will,” Yamada said as he dumped his untouched tray of dumplings into the trash as he walked away. 

“Aw, I would have eaten that,” Chinen complained. He never turned down an opportunity for free food. “We need all the strength we can get.” 

“You’ve had plenty,” Yamada chided. Honestly, Chinen was like a child sometimes. But so was Yuto. It was part of the reason why he had liked him. 

Instead of pouting and complaining, Chinen switched gears to discuss the details of their rescue attempt. He kept his voice low and spoke using code whenever it was possible, not that there were many people hanging around this river bank during the middle of the morning. As always, Yamada scanned the area for threats as he listened to Chinen, but he didn’t see anything suspicious. If things went well they would be able to sneak in, grab Yuto, and sneak out without having to engage with any of the enemy. That was why Yabu had gone through the trouble of getting them the key. 

The warehouse was up ahead, situated right on the edge of the river just like Yabu had described it. They paused for a moment in a hidden spot so they could scope out the area. Chinen screwed the silencer onto the barrel of his hand gun with practiced ease. Yamada had his own Glock in his jacket, but he didn’t intend on using it. He had his needles up his sleeves and his knife shoved into his boot. He had always been better at close range fighting. Hikaru had taught him well. 

“Let’s move,” Chinen said as soon as everything was clear. The key fit into the lock of the door perfectly and they quietly stepped inside. They could hear voices of people somewhere nearby, each syllable echoing off the metal walls of the building. Yamada was so nervous that he thought the beating of his heart might be echoing too. He and Chinen moved slowly and quietly around the boxes of what was probably contraband as they searched. Chinen turned to him and held up six fingers to indicate how many people he had spotted, and then he pointed over to the corner across the other side of the warehouse. 

There he was. Nakajima Yuto. Tied up with chains as he sat in the corner. He had his eyes closed and his face looked like he was in pain. As soon as Yamada saw him, everything came rushing back. The guilt, the pain, the _love_. He wanted to cry but he couldn’t let the tears fall now, not when they were so close. Yuto was bruised up and his cheeks looked thinner than before. 

“Distraction?” Chinen breathed, not wasting air on extra words. Yamada nodded because there was no cover between there and where Yuto was so he couldn’t sneak across to him. As quick as lightning, Chinen scurried back the way they came to make a distraction for the people on guard. Yamada didn’t like that Chinen would be on his own, but there was no other way to do it. A few seconds of waiting and then he heard the quiet muffled thunk of Chinen’s silencer followed by a cry of pain from whoever he had hit. Yamada peeked out from his hiding spot to see how they had reacted. Predictably, they all surged towards the source, leaving Yamada free to make his move.

Yuto’s eyes were open now and they widened as he saw Yamada coming towards him. The chains would be a problem, Yamada realized as he got closer. He couldn’t cut through metal with his knife. He did, however, have a lock pick in his pocket and dug it out, getting to work before Chinen’s distraction fell through.

“Yama-chan,” Yuto said softly. He voiced sounded rough like there were rocks in his throat. Yuto hadn’t called him by that silly nickname for months, but the words seemed to slip out unconsciously. 

“I’m sorry,” Yamada said, fingers moving fast at the lock. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

They were both so focused that neither person noticed the yakuza lackey behind him until it was too late. Just as Yamada got the lock to open, a hand grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him backwards. He landed hard on the concrete floor, knocking the wind out of him. 

But he knew he didn’t have time to feel disoriented so he grabbed his needles and scrambled back to his feet. His opponent brandished a knife and lunged straight for him. Yamada didn’t hesitate and plunged one of his sharp needles into the guy’s arm. Instead of the pain making him drop the weapon like Yamada had hoped, the guy just snarled and struck back with forceful precision. 

The knife ripped through the fabric of his shirt and the flesh of his stomach. Yamada gritted his teeth against the pain because he was finally close enough to drive a needle into his enemy’s neck. The guy went down but before Yamada could make his escape with Yuto, two more guys were on them. Yuto didn’t have the opportunity to fight back before one of them put him in a sleeper hold and knocked him out. Yamada tried to grab him as they dragged Yuto away, but the second guy blocked his path and suddenly Yamada was staring down the barrel of a gun. 

Everything happened so fast after that. Chinen came out of nowhere to put a bullet in that guy’s hand. He cried out in pain and fled. Yamada moved to chase after where they’d taken Yuto, but Chinen grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door. 

“This is the wrong way,” Yamada protested. 

“They’ve got backup now. We’ve got to go.” Chinen didn’t let up.

“We can’t run now that we’re so close!” 

Chinen’s grip on his arm was ironclad as he dragged Yamada back along the path they had come. “We’re outgunned. It’s either retreat or die. And I don’t think you’ll do Yuto much good dead,” he said harshly. He jogged along the path following the riverbank, looking for a crowd to lose themselves in since the yakuza wouldn’t dare to make a public scene. He glanced over his shoulder to check the situation, but they apparently had a good head start. 

Yamada struggled to keep up the pace. He put a hand inside his jacket to check on his wound. It was deeper than he thought, so he just put as much pressure as he could on it and hoped it would be enough to keep the blood from seeping through. The black walls of Okayama Castle were in sight again, but Chinen turned right before the park entrance and led him into the garden nearby. He only caught a brief glimpse of the name on the sign, Kourakuen, before they breezed past it. 

The crowd of people was thicker here and Yamada struggled to even out his breathing. Chinen quickly purchased tickets before he dragged him through the gate. The old imperial garden spanned out in several different directions, but Chinen chose a path along the edge. Finally, they came to a bench shrouded underneath two trees and stopped to rest.

“We’ve lost them,” Chinen sighed with relief. “They’re not dumb enough to follow us here.” 

Yamada didn’t say anything. The pain from his wound was finally starting to kick in. He pressed his hand harder against the skin and tried to ignore the sticky feeling of blood slowly oozing around his fingers.

“Shit,” Chinen cursed as he noticed. “Did you get hurt?” 

Again, Yamada didn’t speak. He was focused now on the garden stretched out in front of them. It was massive with a multitude of flowers and trees, all in different shades of dazzling color. There were little ponds scattered between a few rolling hills, and people walked leisurely through the paths around all the greenery. And beyond the tree line at the edge, Okayama Castle loomed over the scene in all its dark glory. Everything was so simple and beautiful that Yamada felt like a dirty stain on the landscape, unwelcome there. 

“Ryosuke,” Chinen said sharply. “Let me see it. Is it bad?” He reached out, a bit hesitantly, and peeked under Yamada’s jacket at the cut on the side of his stomach. The blood had soaked into a good portion of his shirt in that area.

“I’ve had worse,” Yamada muttered. He increased the pressure to keep any more blood from spilling out. Hopefully it would begin to clot soon. His eyes shifted to focus on the castle again. He’d heard that they called it “crow castle” because of its unusual black walls. 

“Let me bandage you up in the bathroom and then I’ll take you to one of Takaki’s safe houses.” 

“We need to find Yuto,” Yamada insisted, but he was having trouble focusing on Chinen’s voice at the moment. He kept thinking about crows, an animal he’d always associated with death. He remembered one time he had been sitting outside of his little cabin in the mountains. It was quiet except for the sound of the crow perched in a nearby tree. The bird crowed loudly and then turned its head side to side like it was waiting for a response, but there was only silence. The crow was alone. Yamada continued to watch, curious about what it would do. Eventually, the bird flapped its wings and fluttered away only to return a moment later with the remains of a tiny animal. The crow feasted on its catch and it was disgusted to watch, but Yamada couldn’t bring himself to look away. Again, the bird crowed and waited, but there was nothing. Yamada watched this cycle of crowing, waiting, eating until the food was all gone, leaving nothing behind but bones. But just as soon as the crow had finished, another one flew down to join it. They squabbled for a moment, the second one angry about all the food being gone. Yamada watched until they flew off in separate directions, and then he had gone back inside the cabin. 

At the time, Yamada had no sympathy for the second crow. The first had obviously called out to the other, but without a response it had no choice but to proceed alone. But now as he thought about it again, he wondered if the second crow hadn’t been able to respond. Maybe there was a reason he couldn’t crow back. Maybe things were different than they’d appeared on the surface. He looked at the roof of Okayama Castle and imagined what it would be like perched up there. He imagined himself a crow with wings and feathers, but one that was unable to cry out to anyone. Just a silent watcher. 

“Ryosuke,” Chinen repeated again. “Are you listening? We have to go.” 

“What about Yuto?” Yamada asked as Chinen tugged him up from the bench. 

“We’ll worry with that after I take care of you,” Chinen answered. Yamada was beginning to feel sluggish from the pain shooting through his body with each step, so he stopped trying to fight back. Chinen led him past an array of pretty flowers and Yamada focused on the colors, a swirl of vibrant brightness calling out to him. He wanted to touch them but he didn’t dare reach out his hand. 

There was luckily no one in the bathroom, so there were no weird looks when Chinen dragged him into a stall and locked the door. It was cramped between the two of them and the toilet. Yamada leaned up against the side as Chinen pulled out some bandages from somewhere in his pocket. 

“Let go,” Chinen said and gently pried Yamada’s hand away from the cut so that he could bandage it. Chinen worked fast as he wrapped the cloth around his torso before it made more of a mess. His cold fingers sent a chill down Yamada’s spine. 

Since his hand was free again, he looked at it covered with his own blood that glistened in the harsh fluorescent lights of the public restroom. Yuto used to compliment him on his hands all the time. Yuto always said the size was just right, and his skin was smoother than he ever expected. Yuto was almost obsessed with his hands, wrapping them up in his own whenever he had the chance. Yamada was beginning to realize just how much he missed Yuto. It wasn’t just the guilt that drove him to try to rescue him; it was love. When they broke up, Yamada had thought he was mistaken, that he had only fooled himself into loving Yuto. He had convinced himself that his feelings were wrong. But it wasn’t true. That feeling wasn’t something he could wrap up and put away out of sight. It leaked out, much like the blood was still leaking from his injured side. 

“That should be good enough to travel,” Chinen said as he tied the bandage tight. “Takaki’s place isn’t far and I can stitch you up better there. Come on, we can figure out what to do then.” He went to the sink to wash his hands off. 

“Chinen… am I a terrible person?” 

The younger gave him a confused look as he let the water run over his bloody hands. Yamada followed to wash his too. 

“Did you hit your head too? Why would you think that?” Chinen’s wet fingers tangled in his hair, searching his scalp for bruises or cuts. He didn’t like Chinen’s concerned eyes. 

“Because I’m a crow,” he answered while making sure that he washed all the blood from beneath his fingernails. “I’m a crow who doesn’t listen.” 

***

The kitchen in his cabin had never been so quiet before. The only sound was the clink of utensils pushing food around. Neither one of them had really eaten any of their dinner. Yamada looked up at Yuto, but he was still staring straight down into the depths of his curry. They had barely spoken to each other in a week. Yamada was stressed about the jobs they’d been getting lately, each one putting them more and more in harm’s way. It worried him but he couldn’t bring himself to talk about his pain with Yuto. He didn’t want to share that. He wanted to lock it away and pretend to be strong. Because he _had_ to be strong in this business. And it’s not like Yuto had made any effort to break through the walls he had put up. Yuto had been silent and withdrawn lately too. 

“If you didn’t want to eat curry, you could have said so,” Yamada snapped. The sound of chopsticks scraping against the plate was grating on his nerves. 

“Curry is fine,” Yuto answered but he still didn’t eat any of it. After another moment he set down his chopsticks and sighed. He picked up his glass of water for a sip but paused with the glass halfway to his lips, sighing heavily. He placed it back on the table. Yamada thought he was trying to muster up the courage to say something, but Yamada had no energy to try to pry it out of him. He hadn’t slept in two days. 

Yuto made an adorable pouty face which normally, would make Yamada want to climb over the table and kiss him, but not now when he was so annoyed and angry. 

“Do you have a problem?” Yamada spat out the words like they were terrible-tasting bits of food. Yuto didn’t answer so Yamada continued. “Then deal with it.” He said this more harshly than he intended but it was too late now to take back the words. 

Yuto’s eyes narrowed and he suddenly slammed his hand down on the table. “I _am_ dealing with it. Not that you seem to care about anything like that these days.” 

Yamada dropped his chopsticks and rubbed his temples with exasperation. “I don’t have time for this,” he muttered. 

“You don’t have time for anything,” Yuto shot back. “Especially not for me.” 

“That’s not—”

“Don’t deny it,” Yuto raised his voice as he interrupted. He stood up from the table and his chair made a horrible screech-like sound as it slid across the linoleum floor. Yuto towered over him, reminding Yamada just how tall his boyfriend was. 

“You just don’t seem to care anymore,” Yuto continued. “Things have been rough lately and I wanted to just talk about it with you, but I didn’t know what to say. And you’ve just shut yourself off completely. What am I supposed to do, huh? How can you just coldly tell me to _deal with it_ and leave it at that?” 

_Because things have been rough for me too_ , Yamada thought, _but I don’t know what to say either._

“This isn’t working,” Yuto said since Yamada wouldn’t voice his thoughts out loud. “This isn’t working.” His voice had a tone of resignation to it. He’d made up his mind. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

“Maybe… that’s for the best,” Yamada found himself saying, already agreeing with Yuto’s unspoken idea to break up. But there was a part inside of him that was screaming out in protest, a voice that said _don’t let him go_. He ignored that voice. He was just so tired of it all. 

Yuto looked at him with cold eyes as he raised his chin up, looking sadly determined. “You’re not even going to chase after me? Of _course_.” He disappeared from the kitchen to grab his things. 

Yamada gripped the table so hard he almost thought there would be dents in it when he let go. Still, the voices in his head were arguing, but the louder _let him go_ one was winning over the _I need you_ one. He thought he should say something but everything so far had been the wrong thing to say. He just wanted to curl into a ball and deal with it later. 

Yuto breezed back into the kitchen with a bag slung over his shoulder. His long legs quickened his stride across the room to the door. He didn’t look at Yamada until his hand was on the door knob. “If you want to be alone, then be alone!” And then he was gone and the only thing left behind was the echo of the slamming door. 

Then the silence returned and it felt louder than before, like the lack of sound was an ocean pouring into the room, filling it up until he drowned in it. He was angry and confused. Yuto just didn’t _understand_ how he felt. 

With the anger spreading throughout his body, Yamada reached for the knife that he always had with him. The knife with his name lovingly etched into it by Yuto’s hands. He flung the knife at the door with a frustrated scream and watched it sink into the wood like a dart in a dartboard. When that wasn’t satisfying enough, he grabbed Yuto’s plate of barely eaten curry and flung that straight at the door as well. It connected and curry splattered everywhere before the plate clattered to the floor. The chunks of food swimming in the brown curry sauce looked like a large mud stain spread out like that. Yamada grabbed the next thing—Yuto’s glass of water—and hurled it at the door too. The glass splintered on contact and went flying in multiple directions. He winced as a tiny shard nicked a spot under his eye, and then he felt a drop of blood roll down his cheek like a solitary teardrop. The glass shards and ice cubes sank into the curry mix like diamonds into the mud. 

Exhaustion and sadness hit him as the anger suddenly drained away. He sank down on the floor and closed his eyes. “I don’t want you to go.” The words that had been stuck in his throat finally flowed out, but there was no one around to hear them.

***

Yamada was ripped away from his memory by the sound of a loud knock on the door. He tensed up and pushed away his breakfast of miso soup Chinen had given him earlier. They were staying in Takaki’s Okayama apartment and no one should have known they were there. Yamada reached for his gun while Chinen crept cautiously to the door. Yamada listened as Chinen opened the door a crack, exchanged words with the person on the other side, and then closed the door again with a package in his hand. 

Chinen walked back and set the small white cardboard box carefully on the table. “It’s from Yabu,” he explained which made sense because HANDLE WITH EXTREME CARE had been scribbled all over the box in their friend’s unmistakable handwriting. Chinen pried open the top to reveal a batch of takoyaki, but instead of the sauce normally draped on top, it had been used to write a message—an address.

“Does Yabu think we are spies?” Yamada complained of the chosen method of message delivery. 

“Who cares?” Chinen shrugged as he jotted down the address before grabbing a bite to eat. “It’s free food.” He chewed for a moment before continuing with his mouth half-full. “I’ll send this to Takaki and see if he can confirm anything before we make our move.” 

“Where is Kurashiki anyway?” Yamada asked, noting the unfamiliar town name in the address. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to just run immediately there and charge in guns blazing, but he knew he couldn’t make any more rash decisions. It was time to start doing things right. 

“Not far, I think,” Chinen said, looking it up on his phone to confirm. “Yeah, maybe twenty minutes or so.” 

“Then we can get ready and be there in an hour or so.” 

“How about no?” Chinen said. He’d shoved another piece of takoyaki in his mouth whole, so he gestured that he had more to say once he could speak again. “Let me call for backup,” he finally managed to say. 

“Who are you going to call?” Yamada scoffed and then counted off everyone on his fingers. “Keito is still working in England, Inoo went off the grid after I saw him in Nagoya, Yabu can’t help us, and who knows how long it would take Hikaru to get here from Hokkaido. I don’t even know where the hell Daiki is these days, and you know Takaki won’t be much help in a combat situation.” 

Chinen frowned and Yamada knew he had won the argument. “Okay, fine. But we’re not making our move until tonight. That’ll give us time to scope things out and let you recover some more from yesterday.” 

“I’m okay.” The wound to his stomach still hurt but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. What he imagined the yakuza had done to Yuto after his near escape was much worse. 

Chinen had given up on the takoyaki for now and had moved on to disassembling his gun to clean it. “You lost a lot of blood.” He paused mid-motion in removing the gun barrel as if he’d suddenly had a different idea. “I should check the stitches actually.” 

He ignored Yamada’s protests and pulled off the t-shirt covering up the bandages he’d reapplied the night before. Yamada tried not to grimace when lifting his arm sent a wave of pain radiating out from his stomach as the skin stretched and strained against the stitches. At least it looked cleaner than it had last night. He wanted to forget about that mess. When they had finally made it to Takaki’s apartment, the blood had soaked through the makeshift bandages and into a large part of his shirt and even to some of his pants. By that time, Yamada was feeling dizzy and nauseous and had no will to fight back against treatment anymore. Chinen took him to the bathroom to strip his clothes and the messy bandages away before pulling out a first aid kit from somewhere to clean him up. The whole process hurt but it wasn’t anything compared to the mental turmoil he was dealing with. He had finally realized all the mistakes he had made, realized where he had gone wrong. 

“It’s not infected,” Chinen declared as his fingers brushed against the stitches he had put there to keep Yamada together. He returned Yamada’s shirt and then went back to the business of cleaning his gun. 

“Chii,” Yamada began hesitantly. He didn’t want to talk but he knew he had to. If he could open up to his best friend, then he could open up to Yuto too once they rescued him. He could finally say what he needed to say. “Chii, I can’t get him out of my head.” 

“Yuto?” Chinen questioned but he obviously knew the answer. His hands didn’t pause as he continued to separate his gun into different pieces. 

“It’s like he’s invaded my head or something. I just keep thinking about all the mistakes I made, all the things I should have said to him.” 

“What went wrong?” Chinen asked. The parts were scattered around like a complicated jigsaw puzzle that only Chinen could decipher. 

“There were some close calls while you were away,” Yamada began, absentmindedly touching the scar on his neck again. He remembered several other times when he and Yuto had almost been seriously injured or killed. Chinen had missed all of it while he spent six months chasing down runaway yakuza in New York City. 

“Yuto seemed okay at first, but all of it started to bother me. And I didn’t want to worry him with my problems, so I just stopped telling him. I dealt with it on my own. I didn’t realize…” he trailed off. “I didn’t realize he was hurting too. It was so much easier to ignore it.” 

“Nothing is easy in this business,” Chinen said quietly, as he wiped away black gunpowder residue. It left smears on the rag he was using. “Not even pulling the trigger.” 

“I just shouldn’t have let things fall apart.” 

Chinen paused and looked deep in thought. He dropped the dirty rag back on the table now that he was done scrubbing every bit of his gun clean. “Have you considered that you _both_ let it fall apart? That Yuto did the exact same thing you did?” 

Yamada supposed that was a valid point.

Chinen let out a small chuckle. “You’re both idiots.” He slotted each piece back into its proper place one by one. “If you truly love each other, maybe you can try letting things fall back together. You know where everything is supposed to be.” He screwed the last piece back so that his gun was whole again, and then he stood up to clear their dirty dishes from the table. A sudden thought occurred to Yamada as he watched Chinen move around the kitchen with ease. 

“Is that why you know where Takaki keeps the spare keys to his safe houses and where everything is inside?” 

Chinen _hmphed_ with denial even as he continued to put already-washed dishes away in the cabinets. “All of Yuya’s safe houses are the same. You see one, you see them all,” he answered a bit gruffly, but Yamada could see a sort of fond look settle onto his friend’s face as he opened the kitchen window to let some air inside. 

For the first time in a long time, Yamada felt the urge to laugh. Perhaps it was the new wind blowing in or perhaps it was something else. _Soon_ , Yamada thought as he grabbed a piece of takoyaki from the box and ate it whole. _Soon, I’ll find you, Yuto, and maybe neither of us will be lost anymore._

***

“Get down,” a voice called out. Yamada saw the Molotov cocktail sail over his head before someone grabbed his shoulder and then pushed him out of the way to protect him from the blast. Yamada heard the boom and felt the heat against his skin. Then he heard the sound of the yakuza guys running away, and that’s when he figured it was safe to look up again. 

His rescuer was tall with shiny black hair and a dazzling smile. Yamada blinked, sure for a moment he was hallucinating things. Hikaru had sent him here on this mission alone. He wasn’t expecting anyone to come to his rescue. “Thank… you?”

“You’re… welcome?” the stranger answered in an imitation of Yamada’s confused tone. But then he laughed, breaking the tension. “I’ve been trailing one of those guys you were fighting for a few weeks, so I just happened to be around. My name’s Yuto, by the way, and you are…?” 

Yamada blinked, still trying to process what was going on. “Yamada Ryosuke. You’re pretty handy with the fireworks, yeah?” He looked at the burnt out remains of the broken bottle that had scared away the yakuza lackeys. 

“Well I’ve been told I have an _explosive_ personality,” Yuto grinned. 

Yamada tried not to snort because that would make him look decidedly uncool in front of this new guy, but he couldn’t help it. The joke was so dumb, it was actually funny. But the smile fell off his face as soon as he spotted a man standing behind Yuto. The only one who hadn’t run away yet apparently. Before anyone else could react, Yamada had his needles out. Another moment and he had incapacitated the attacker before he could get to them. He heard Yuto let out a startled sigh of relief. 

“Perhaps we should go somewhere else?” Yamada suggested. He wiped his needles off and put them away. 

“How about coffee?” Yuto asked. 

Yamada paused. “Are you… flirting with me?” 

Yuto nodded. “Wow, you’re very _sharp_.” 

Another dumb pun that Yamada couldn’t stop himself from laughing at. This Yuto guy was stupidly attractive even if Yamada didn’t want to admit to it. “I know a place nearby,” he finally said, and then began to head in that direction without waiting for Yuto’s answer. He had a feeling Yuto wouldn’t decline anyway. 

“We saved each other,” Yuto said as he matched his long stride to Yamada’s shorter one. “I think we make a pretty good team.” 

“Is that an offer?” 

“It’s not _not_ an offer,” Yuto grinned. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re weird?” 

“Yes, all the time,” Yuto said seriously. “But, hey, I just try to make life more exciting.” 

Yamada considered it. It _would_ be nice to have a regular partner again since Chinen had been travelling more and more these days. “Alright then,” he nodded. 

Yuto’s face lit up with a smile and in Yamada’s eyes, he looked positively radiant. “Then I’ve got your back, and you’ve got mine.” 

***

Kurashiki was a nice little city, but Yamada couldn’t see much of it as the sun had just set when they arrived at the train station. He and Chinen passed by an odd-looking clock tower decorated with fairy tale images, currently playing some strange music. But the further they walked, the more the buildings around them changed. They were entering the historical Bikan district. Here the road got narrower and the tall city buildings were replaced with smaller shops and houses. Everything was like the old Edo period style. If Yamada had time to get lost in fantasizing, he could almost imagine himself a samurai walking these streets. 

There weren’t many people around since all the shops had closed up. The two of them walked along the edge of the stream that ran through the middle of this part of the town before crossing a stone bridge and then disappearing down a small back alley. 

“You know what to do,” Chinen whispered as they reached the building where Yuto was supposed to be. 

Yamada nodded. Again, Chinen would provide a distraction while Yamada worked to free Yuto and get him away. Yamada was more prepared than before. He had a small pair of bolt cutters he picked up earlier at the hardware store stuffed inside his jacket just in case there were chains again this time. 

He held his breath as Chinen jumped into action. There were a few more yakuza this time but most of them seemed to be armed only with knives instead of guns, so Chinen had the advantage. They clearly weren’t expecting another rescue attempt so soon after the last one.

Yamada searched the area and predictably, Yuto was again chained up in the corner of the building. His face was a bit bloodier than before but otherwise, he seemed okay. Yamada rushed over and didn’t waste time getting to work. Instead of making the same mistake as the last time, Yuto seemed to be focused on watching Yamada’s back to check if anyone was headed their way. 

The bolt cutters did their job and finally Yuto was free. “Can you run?” Yamada asked quietly, noticing that one of Yuto’s ankles was a mass of purple and black bruises. 

“It’s just sprained, not broken I think,” Yuto answered. 

“Then let’s get Chinen and go,” Yamada said, helping Yuto up. 

“Behind you,” Yuto suddenly said, tensing up. But before Yamada could throw a needle at the enemy about to attack them, Yuto had already grabbed the needle right out of his hand and threw it as hard as he could. The man shrieked and went down. 

“Nice shot,” Yamada said. He stopped to retrieve the needle as they passed by. They went to check on Chinen and arrived just as he took the last guy out. Breathing heavily from the adrenaline, he turned to face them. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

Both Yamada and Yuto nodded. Yamada reached inside his jacket and pulled out the cards he had collected from every false lead since the yakuza had taken Yuto. He didn’t need to hold onto them anymore, so he let them go and watched as the little pieces of paper scatter on the floor. 

“Let’s not stick around in case they called anyone for backup,” Chinen said. He led the way as Yamada and Yuto walked behind. Yamada could feel that his wound had reopened, but the only thing he cared about at the moment was the feeling of Yuto as he leaned against him for support. 

“I’m sorry for everything, Yuto.” His voice was so quiet he wasn’t sure if the other could actually hear him. 

“You came for me,” Yuto said just as softly. “I didn’t think you would after what happened.” 

“There’s a lot that I need to tell you and a lot I need to apologize for… if you’re willing to listen.” 

“You owe me lots of coffee and beer and cake, and then I’ll listen,” Yuto said with a laugh that turned into a weak cough. 

“It’s a deal,” Yamada agreed and wrapped his arm a bit tighter around Yuto’s. 

They had made it back to the train station and Chinen quickly bought the three of them tickets for the last train to Okayama. The train was mostly empty so they sank into the nearest seats as soon as they stepped on. Only Chinen stood up, clutching one of the handles and glaring at anyone who dared to give them judging looks for their rough appearance. 

Yamada still felt guilty over all that had happened, but now other feelings were seeping in and mixing together. Relief and love and a hint of happiness. Yuto’s head was resting on the back part of Yamada’s shoulder and one of his hands was clasped around Yamada’s. 

“I can hear your heart beating,” Yuto muttered like he was about to fall asleep, but he must not have been too tired because he kept talking. “Yama-chan, how about we let the mistakes of the past stay in the past?”

“And keep moving forward?” 

“Yeah, together.” 

Yamada knew that this wasn’t the end. When they woke up in the morning, they’d still be stuck in this treacherous profession, and they’d still be faced with danger at every turn. But Yamada vowed to do better this time. They had promised to watch each other’s backs from the moment they first met. 

Yuto’s breathing had evened out, meaning that he had drifted off to sleep. Yamada felt comfortable and calm in this position, so he closed his eyes too. He knew Chinen would wake them when the train reached their stop. With Yuto by his side, he felt like he was back on the right track again.


End file.
